I find this oddly reminiscent of the equally earnest, well-meaning and annoying people who insist that everyone is bisexual. In either case, attempts to argue that no, one really isn't, are met with either smugly well-meaning or earnestly naive assurances that oh yes, you really are, you just obviously haven't figured it out yet/are suppressing it/whatever.
In both cases, I'm perfectly prepared to accept that more people may be spiritual and/or bisexual than is commonly thought, and that much may depend on where you draw the boundaries of the term, but in either case, "more" does not mean "everyone". Really, pretty much any statement beginning with "Everyone is..." should be looked at with extreme skepticism. I mean, unless it ends with "...a carbon-based life form" or something, and even then, that could be subject to change in the future.
And this is coming from someone who is both of the above, albeit only for a fairly loose definition of bisexual (I'm around a Kinsey 5). But I am not everyone, and am not convinced that everyone is secretly like me.
I might be happier if I were religious, but then, I'd also be happier if I were a billionaire, but we live with our limitations. The problem is I don't think it's actually true. I suspect that religious people live with the same kind of gnawing doubts and empty spaces as atheists do, get just as terrified when their relatives die or when their bodies fail, are just as awful when they get into positions of power and responsibility, and so on.
Maybe you'd be happier, maybe you wouldn't. Certainly, I know a lot of religious people, of various stripes, who struggle with depression on a regular basis. And the sort of gnawing doubts you refer to. I think anyone, of any belief system or none, who is not a rabid fundamentalist of some sort, periodically had doubts about whatever they believe or disbelieve - and to a certain extent this is a good thing, precisely because, however uncomfortable it may be, it protects against becoming a rabid fundamentalist. It's considerably harder to justify being a douchebag to everyone who believes differently than you do if you know that whatever you believe may or may not ultimately be true.
Personally, there have been times when my religious beliefs and practices have helped me deal with and overcome depression and anxiety, and there have been times when they haven't, and have even occasionally added fuel to the fire (as, for example, when the depressive downward spiral starts to include stuff like "I'm a crappy excuse for a priestess and the Gods are probably ashamed of me"). On the whole I think it's been far more of a positive influence than a negative one for me, but again, I'm not everyone. Different things work for different people, and we aren't all wired the same way, spiritually or otherwise.
I've never had any sort of religious experience, and it's pretty hard for me to comprehend how people can have religious experiences; I imagine the reverse is just as alien.
Yes. As much as I may accept that not everyone has that sort of experience or perception, there's a certain level on which I don't really understand not having it, and have trouble imagining what it would be like not to. It's been a part of my life for so long. It's kind of like trying to understand what it would be like to be blind or deaf if you've not only always been sighted/hearing, but are also a very visually/aurally oriented person. And I know that's a problematic simile to use, because I don't really intend to suggest that being non-spiritual is a disability - it's just that that's the closest parallel I can think of to having a dimension of experience that has always been there for me and fairly central to my life be gone. But ultimately, I don't have to be able to understand what it would be like to be non-spiritual - I just have to be able to accept, and respect, that many people I care about are, and that that's OK.
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Date: 2012-07-16 10:13 pm (UTC)In both cases, I'm perfectly prepared to accept that more people may be spiritual and/or bisexual than is commonly thought, and that much may depend on where you draw the boundaries of the term, but in either case, "more" does not mean "everyone". Really, pretty much any statement beginning with "Everyone is..." should be looked at with extreme skepticism. I mean, unless it ends with "...a carbon-based life form" or something, and even then, that could be subject to change in the future.
And this is coming from someone who is both of the above, albeit only for a fairly loose definition of bisexual (I'm around a Kinsey 5). But I am not everyone, and am not convinced that everyone is secretly like me.
I might be happier if I were religious, but then, I'd also be happier if I were a billionaire, but we live with our limitations. The problem is I don't think it's actually true. I suspect that religious people live with the same kind of gnawing doubts and empty spaces as atheists do, get just as terrified when their relatives die or when their bodies fail, are just as awful when they get into positions of power and responsibility, and so on.
Maybe you'd be happier, maybe you wouldn't. Certainly, I know a lot of religious people, of various stripes, who struggle with depression on a regular basis. And the sort of gnawing doubts you refer to. I think anyone, of any belief system or none, who is not a rabid fundamentalist of some sort, periodically had doubts about whatever they believe or disbelieve - and to a certain extent this is a good thing, precisely because, however uncomfortable it may be, it protects against becoming a rabid fundamentalist. It's considerably harder to justify being a douchebag to everyone who believes differently than you do if you know that whatever you believe may or may not ultimately be true.
Personally, there have been times when my religious beliefs and practices have helped me deal with and overcome depression and anxiety, and there have been times when they haven't, and have even occasionally added fuel to the fire (as, for example, when the depressive downward spiral starts to include stuff like "I'm a crappy excuse for a priestess and the Gods are probably ashamed of me"). On the whole I think it's been far more of a positive influence than a negative one for me, but again, I'm not everyone. Different things work for different people, and we aren't all wired the same way, spiritually or otherwise.
I've never had any sort of religious experience, and it's pretty hard for me to comprehend how people can have religious experiences; I imagine the reverse is just as alien.
Yes. As much as I may accept that not everyone has that sort of experience or perception, there's a certain level on which I don't really understand not having it, and have trouble imagining what it would be like not to. It's been a part of my life for so long. It's kind of like trying to understand what it would be like to be blind or deaf if you've not only always been sighted/hearing, but are also a very visually/aurally oriented person. And I know that's a problematic simile to use, because I don't really intend to suggest that being non-spiritual is a disability - it's just that that's the closest parallel I can think of to having a dimension of experience that has always been there for me and fairly central to my life be gone. But ultimately, I don't have to be able to understand what it would be like to be non-spiritual - I just have to be able to accept, and respect, that many people I care about are, and that that's OK.